Topsy-Turvy
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: After the revelation regarding Thorin, and being fought over at the dinner table, it is Balin who takes the cake at the end of the day, in Bilbo Baggins' amazed eyes. Movieverse. Companion piece to "His Place," "Of Cuddles and Reassurances," and "Homesick," but can be read on its own.


Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

* * *

Topsy-Turvy

Tonight, the company seems louder and in higher spirits than Bilbo Baggins has ever witnessed so far during their journey. Instead of being suspicious, quiet, and on guard as usual whenever taking shelter at an inn, all the dwarves have made their table the center of attention with their laughter, jokes, songs, and numerous calls for refills of their large mugs. Judging by the celebratory atmosphere among the company, one would suspect they have defeated Smaug and finally reclaimed their home. But they haven't. They only have survived the goblins, Azog, and the Carrock.

So Bilbo Baggins takes this all in with a mixture of bafflement and bemusement. _I will never fully understand dwarves_, he concludes for the thousandth time since he ran out his door. Over the rim of his drink, the Halfling observes with wonder Thorin, his face flushed and relaxed, swaying and singing along with the others, momentarily free of burdens, broodiness, and hatred.

"Three cheers for Uncle Thorin!" Kili shouts, slurring his words slightly, as the song comes to a rousing close.

The table erupts into hearty hoorays along with stamping of feet. Bilbo miraculously manages not to spit out his drink, gags on it instead, and dissolves into a coughing fit that sounds like he is trying to cough up a lung.

_Uncle?!_ he thinks in shocked astonishment while hacking into his sleeve. Thorin is Fili and Kili's uncle..._they are his nephews?!_ He had no inkling at all. What interactions he noted among the three dwarves had hardly seemed to speak of family ties – unlike some of the others in the company. And this means Kili and Fili are _princes!_

This may explain the times Bilbo had worried if Thorin was plotting to murder him based on the very black looks the dwarf king shot him after breaking up the hobbit and Kili and Fili. Probably did not consider a Halfling proper company for dwarven royalty to keep. Perhaps he should keep his distance from now on.

Well, this is certainly a surprise…_uncle, nephews_...

Two hard slaps on his back helps bring Bilbo's coughing fit to an end. Straightening in his seat, clearing his throat and flushing with embarrassment over the scene he has made, the hobbit shoots glances to the dwarves sandwiching him on the bench.

"Are you all right, Bilbo?" Dori and Bofur ask in unison, and then glare at each other across the table.

This does not go unnoticed by Bilbo, and he blushes in awkward confusion. "Y-yes. I am fine," he quickly says. "Thank you, Dori, Nori, for your help," he adds, looking at the brothers on either side of him.

It is the first time he is sitting with the older Ri brothers, and he is not sure what he thinks about it. Really, all he did was simply call Ori's name to ask about a plant he did not recognize; the scribe had turned back, and so the arrow missed him by an inch. Truly, Bilbo had done nothing. Certainly nothing that called for the three dwarves' profuse thanks and promises to repay him, to remain to at his heels for the rest of the day, to firmly sit him with them at the table, nor to still be looking at him with such awe. The situation has been the unexpected highlight of Bilbo's day. ...Until five minutes ago with the revelation about Thorin and his nephews!

"We can't have our burglar die on us, not after saving Ori," Nori states, his hand coming up to touch the freshly re-braided braid in the smaller creature's hair.

Even over the new, loud singing, Bilbo clearly makes out the angry outburst in Khuzdul, and his gaze whips from Nori to Bifur. His mouth falls half open.

Bifur is attempting to lean across the table, brandishing his fork as though it is a weapon, his beard positively bristling. His face reminds the hobbit of a thundercloud. Spatting something else in his native tongue, he shakes his fork at the thief. Bombur, restraining his cousin with a strong hold on his collar, then snaps something to the brothers across the table. Bofur, silent, watches through dark, narrowed eyes, his attention jumping between Bilbo's face and braid.

At Dori's comment to Nori over Bilbo's head with a lazy smile that is quite akin to the star-haired dwarf's, also in Khuzdul, Bombur throws his free arm out in front of his brother, cutting off his attempt to launch himself across the table with a snarl. An "oof" noise escapes Bilbo as Dori and Nori squeeze him in a group hug, drawing more growls from the onlookers.

While completely in the dark as to what words are being exchanged around him, obviously, the hobbit can hear the anger and displeasure in the Ur brothers' tones, can see the fierce and challenging looks all directed at their companions. And the protectiveness and possessiveness shining in their eyes directed towards _him_. He can practically read their minds: _If you don't get your hands off **our **hobbit in the next five seconds, we will not be responsible for our actions!_

"_We were first!_" Bofur grounds out in the common tongue, pointedly staring at the small braid. Bifur and Bombur nod vigorously.

_I really need to get a straightforward explanation about this braid_, Bilbo reminds himself with a roll of his eyes.

He catches Nori's eye who winks, runs his fingers over the braid in question slowly (drawing yet more glares and snarls) and, at disappointed Ori's calling and tugging on his arm, withdraws his hand with a murmured, "Pity."

Even when the Ri brothers return to their drinks and join in the singing, the other three regard Bilbo with serious, searching expressions. He offers them a small smile. He does not understand what all is going on, but he thinks he is starting to a little bit. And while it is bewildering, there is something endearing about it, too. He breathes in relief as his friends seem mollified and relax, though Bifur waves his fork in the air a final time for good measure, while Bofur looks as if he is considering dragging Bilbo over to their side of the table and the hatted dwarf opens his mouth.

But there is suddenly a surprisingly large shadow falling over them. Craning his head far back, Bilbo blinks in shock as Balin spins in a circle or three on the table, his ale held high above his head as he sings loudly with his kin. Awed, the hobbit watches as the wise adviser, always so dignified and posed, moves back and forth across the table with increasing speed, his face full of glee, his voice rising in volume with the last chorus. He does a series of high kicks with a laugh. Never did the Halfling suspect he would see his friend in such a state, so jolly, with such impressive flexibility.

Enthusiastically Bilbo claps at the song's ending, and particularly Balin's performance, as do the rest of the patrons with loud approval. The white-haired dwarf delivers a number of grand bows to the room. Giggling, he unsteadily steps down onto the bench between Oin and Gloin, and then steps down to the floor. Or at least, that his intention but something - maybe not quite having his balance, lack of focus, too busy still giggling like a young lad…. In any event, he pitches forward and lands face first on the wooden floor. The laughter and cheering do not die down at this event but increase, with Dwalin proclaiming, "Well done, brother!" None of the company moves to assist the fallen dwarf.

"All right there, Balin?" Thorin inquires unconcernedly.

"O-o-of courseeee," Balin answers with a laugh and pats the floor with his hands.

"That was some tumble, cousin," Gloin comments with a grin.

"Tum-m-mble? Oh, no." The dwarf rolls onto his back. His expression is almost one of his old seriousness. "I merely was attacking the floor," he solemnly informs his audience, "and I believe I won the match."

His gaze flickers about the room, and a moment later he cracks up laughing, followed by the others.

Propping his chin in his hand, Bilbo can only shake his head. He never imagined he would see Balin so drunk, and a very interesting one he makes. _The highlight of this topsy-turvy day_, he concludes.

THE END


End file.
